his brother's leg with him, and contrived to | to them that they must decide which of them squeeze himself into a hole in the ground. When the lion returned, he missed him. Roaring loudly, he ran backward and forward several times over the ground, passing close by the hole, but strangely missing it. Soon after, day dawned, and the lion went off. Out of the hole came the robber, more dead than alive, and was about to cut his brother's leg from the chain, when a party of the Bey's horsemen rode up and seized him. He was taken before the Bey, to whom he told his story. His brother's leg was still in the chain to confirm it; and the Bey, in consideration of his wonderful escape, awarded him an unconditional pardon. Not the least interesting portion of Lieutenant Gérard's revelations relates to the social habits of the lion. It seems that young lions suffer as much as babies from teething. Twothirds of the females and a large proportion of the males die during this process-doubtless for want of proper medical attendance, gum-lancing, and the rest. As the females suffer the most, it follows that, among adult lions, males preponderate. Hence the lioness leads an enviable life. From her early youth she is surrounded by a troop of youthful admirers, who follow her wherever she goes, roar for her, hunt for her, and very like some of our fashionable ball-room lions-pester her life out. She is invariably a creature of sense and discretion. She needs no paternal vigilance to insure her comfortable settlement in life. When her young lovers become pressing in their suit, she beckons shall win her. A free fight follows; and while the combat rages, and the ground is strewed with skin, hair, mane, and blood, the lady decamps, and seeks the companionship of a staid old lion, with a long black mane. If the victor among the young fellows presumes to claim fulfillment of her pledge, the old lion will quietly crunch his leg, or, if he be very troublesome, tear his eye out. Then the old lion formally sets up housekeeping. He is the most uxorious of brutes. He invariably brings the first-fruits of the chase home to his love. He will not touch a morsel till she is satiated. Hungry as he may be, he licks his paws till she turns away from the carcass. If she is attacked, he will die for her; if she is ill, he will watch by her side with every sign of tender sympathy. This is the redeeming part of the lion's character. Very differently does the lioness behave. It is impossible to read the accounts of her conduct without being struck with the remarkable contrast she presents to the ladies of our fashionable world. Before her marriage her levity and her faithlessness have been noticed. We regret to say that matrimony does not always alter her demeanor. Though she displays no ill-timed sorrow when her liege lord mutilates an audacious admirer, she is fond of having a troop of young fashionables dancing attendance on her, and will turn from her black-maned protector to comfort them with a sidelong glance. Nor is this all. No matter how long she has been married, her husband can not pass another | the struggle ended she approached the combatfull-grown lion without a duel. The lady's pride requires blood. An Arab was walking through a wood one moonlight night, watching for an opportunity of killing a stag. Toward midnight he heard strange footsteps, and peering hastily in the direction whence they came, he saw a lion and lioness marching through the brushwood. As quick as thought he sprang into a tree and hid himself in the topmost branches. At the foot of the tree the pair of lions lay down to rest. The Arab had hardly watched them five minutes when away over the mountain he heard a distant roar. It met with an immediate response from the lioness. Enraged at her levity, her companion roared so loudly that the Arab leaped from the branch on which he sat, and let his gun fall. No notice of man or gun took the lions. The lioness continued to roar invitingly; the lion, savagely, as if to say, "Well, let him come; I am ready for him!" A short while afterward the new lion made his appearance-a splendid fellow, with a jet-black mane. Rising slowly from her seat, the lioness actually walked toward him. Shocked at such ostentatious treachery, her husband ran before her, and without another word sprang on his rival. In a moment the two lions were clasped in each other's embrace, tearing, biting, destroying each other. Their strong bones cracked like pistol-shots, and howls of pain intermingled with roars of rage. All this while the lioness lay watching the fight curiously, licking her paws and wagging her tail. When ants and snuffed them. Both were dead. She bolted off at a light, pleasant pace; and the Arab, in his tree, was so disgusted at her gross want of feeling and principle, that he could not help roaring at the pitch of his lungs an epithet which sounds better in Arabic than in English. When the lioness becomes a mother, her morals improve. She watches her young with tenderness, defends them with ferocity. The lion, on the contrary, objects to babies. Their noise disturbs his slumbers, and interrupts his reflections. As soon as his progeny begin to try their lungs, he divorces his wife and goes to live at some distance. He is not so oblivious of his duties but that he remains within earshot, ready, at need, to defend his family. But he will not associate with them. Consequently the lioness leads, at this time, an active life. When she weans her young, she does the hunting for the nursery herself. It is then the Arabs sometimes succeed in capturing young lions. They lie in wait near the spot where the den of the lioness is supposed to be, and wait till they see her go abroad to forage. A rush is then made, with good dogs, to the den, and the cubs are seized, wrapped in a burnoose to prevent their crying. and carried off. Woe betide the hunters if they meet the lioness on their way home! Instinct tells her what has happened. Reckless of danger she flies at the nearest man, and brings him to the ground, maimed or killed; then to the next, and so on throughout the band, until the survivors escape or the lioness is killed. A nephew of a leading Arab sheik was unfortunate enough to meet a lioness on one of these occasions. She sprang toward him, though he was surrounded by sixty armed men. He reserved his fire till the last moment, then pulled the trigger-the gun snapped. Wrapping his left arm in his burnoose he offered it to the lioness, who crunched it directly, while the Arab fired two pistol-shots into her. She flew from him to another, who fired down her throat; but had his ribs broken, his side laid bare, and his body otherwise mutilated before the brute died. It was an expensive hunt for the tribe. arch of wild olive, and strewed with leaves and scraps of skin, where he lies during the burning August days. There are holes, deeper and darker, half-covered with twigs and branches, and fallen timber, into which he creeps when the winter storms burst over the thicket. There is a narrow nook, near the edge of the thicket, where he lies in wait for his prey, or watches for the attack of the hunter. And there is his nuptial home, a large comfortable opening in the thicket, where he sits to watch his bride tear an ox in shreds, or lavishes upon her love's warmest caresses. When the Chegatma find one of these lairs, and resolve to rid the country of its mischievous Faithful to his mate, the lion is also faithful tenant, they gather around the spot, and usualto his home. He has been known to live thir-ly climb stout trees on the edge of the thicket. ty years in the same den. In the south, Cum- Then all shout together. At the sound the ming notes that the domicile of the lion is apt lion starts from his sleep. He does not rise to be governed by the quantity of rain that falls. from the ground, but raises his head and listens. If water is plentiful, each leonine family selects In a moment a shot whistles through the branchits home, and holds no intercourse with its fel- es over him. This angers him; he raises one lows; but if the season be dry, the lions will leg, and his tail grows stiff. Shall he rush out appear in troops, leading a nomad life, and fol- and wreak vengeance on the caitiffs who thus lowing the deer and other game as they roam presume to disturb his repose in his own den? the desert in search of green fields and cool Just then he remembers that, one day long ago, streams. In the north, drought seldom drives he was awaked by just such insults, and that, the lion to abandon his habits or his home. Ac- on rushing out to punish his enemy, his skin cordingly, when he is old enough to declare his was perforated in a strange and horribly unindependence, he chooses a dense thicket and pleasant manner, and he had hard work to limp begins to build. He is royal in his notions. back to his home. He will lie still. He reHis palace is extensive, and its accommodations lieves himself by lashing his sides with his tail varied. He has rooms for summer, dens for and tearing a tree with his claws. winter. There is a lair hid by a deep thick Meanwhile the shouts and shots fly thick and heavy. A ball strikes the tree against which | It was such a noise, he says, as a mouse would he leans. A stone hits him on the nose. Con- make in running over the leaves. His sportsvinced that forbearance is no longer a virtue, man's tact revealed what it was; and as he he rushes forth. The Arabs have heard him looked, two large paws, a pair of long mustachcrashing through the brushwood, and are ready.es, and an enormous nose, appeared successiveThe moment he appears twenty balls crack ly to confirm the impression. His gun was on against his hide. Maddened, and lost to all full cock at his shoulder; the moment he saw thought of safety, he discerns a hunter in a tree the red glaring eyes he fired, and at that short close by, and flies at him. The Arab is out of distance the iron slug with which he had loadreach, and while the lion is crouching at the ed his piece was fatal. That lioness had placed foot of the tree, a better shot than usual lays her cub in safety, and was coming deliberately him out. to attack the hunter. Some critics have laughed at Gordon Cumming's book, on the ground that he never admits that he missed a shot. Without assuming to defend the veracity of the great hunter, we may observe that, as compared with other sportsmen, his consumption of powder is enormous. He seldom kills an elephant before the fifteenth or twentieth shot; whereas Mr. Baker, of Ceylon, accounted it a blunder to need to fire twice. It is true that the latter hunted in the tall jungle, the former in open country. As to lions, Gordon Cumming usually finishes his beast at the second shot, and occasionally only at the third. Lieutenant Gérard says expressly in his hunting directions, "You must kill with the first shot between the eyes." At any range beyond that of a pistol, this advice would be bad, obviously. The lion's skull is so strong that even at fifty or sixty yards good hunters prefer the shoulder shot as more safe, if less effective; and unless the lion be perfectly still, and the hunter have time for deliberate aim, in which Though the lion seems to assume it as his natural duty to protect the lioness, she is well able to protect herself. Cumming found the females the more troublesome of the two. He had lost some cattle, and made a shrewd guess as to the identity of the thief, when, in riding out, he fell in with a lioness devouring a blesbok. At sight of the hunters she made for the mountains; but Cumming, being well mounted, gave hot chase, and gained on her rapidly. Being within ear-shot, he shouted to her to stop that he had something to say to her. She did stop; would not turn round, but crouched, with tail turned to the hunters, as though doubtful whether they were worth looking at. As the sound of the horses' hoofs reached her she rose, faced about, and began to gnash her teeth and flourish her tail. Cumming and his men dismounted, and looked to their priming. This found to be in order, one of the men proceeded calmly to fasten the horses together. The lioness was puzzled. After a few moments' observation, she advanced on the hunters, slowly. Cum-case the eye would appear the most eligible shot, ming orders his most trusty man to reserve his fire for her last spring; kneels, and fires at sixty yards. Though hit in the shoulder she charges furiously, and knocks one of the horses down. "At this moment Stofolus's rifle exploded in his hand, and Kleinboy, whom Cumming had ordered to stand by him, danced about like a duck in a gale of wind." Cumming stood out from the horses, watching for a second shot; and the lioness seeing him, left the horse and made a dash at him. His rifle was true, and at a few yards the lioness was stretched. it seems difficult to quarrel with the practice. What a lion may do, even after his shoulder is broken, may be gathered from the following story-one of the best of our French sportsman's: A lion had worried a tribe of Arabs beyond endurance, and they had sought out Gérard, and besought him to rid them of the malefactor. They discovered his lair, which was in the side of a mountain, and, obedient to the Frenchman's orders, led out a goat, and tied it to a tree on the outskirts of a wood near the lair. Gérard took up a position in the wood, and had the satisfaction of seeing the lion look up as the goat was being made fast. After a moment's observation he disappeared. Gérard lay quiet, watching; soon the goat began to tremble and shiver, and its ears to jerk convulsively. The lion was coming. He ascended the ravine between his lair and the hunter, slowly, and offering a capital target; but Gérard was so struck with his grace and majesty that he would not fire. When she has her young with her she will never fly. Gérard watched a long time in the woods for a lioness which had committed fearful depredations among the Arabs. He was losing hope of seeing her, after several nights' watching, when he saw something move near the body of a horse at the bottom of a valley below him. A single glance satisfied him that it was the lioness with her cub. They played round the carcass a short while; then the cub began to help himself. At that very moment the mother saw Gérard sitting on a rock above. If he admired the lion, the latter seemed to With a spring like lightning she seized her cub return the compliment. He stopped in his by the back and dashed off with him. They career, lay down, winked at Gérard, and eyed were lost to sight in an instant. Gérard sat a him with a benign expression. He seemed to while watching for some sign of their return; be saying to himself, "I saw just now a man he was beginning to lose hope, and to regret and a goat here. The man is gone, and there that he had not fired when he first saw the pair, is another man there strangely dressed, who when he heard a noise in the leaves beside him. I looks as if he wanted to speak to me. Dinner time is near; which would be best to eat, the man or the goat? Sheep are better than goats; but they are so far off. Men are fair eating, but this fellow seems thin." The lion decided in favor of the goat, and advanced toward the poor trembling creature. At twelve paces Gérard fired, with a steelpointed bullet, at his shoulder; a second after, he fired again at the same spot. Beyond a doubt both shoulders must be broken. The lion, however, escaped into his thicket. Impossible to prevent the Arabs following him. branches to hide himself, and sat down quietly to wait for the lion. Several hours passed; at last, about eight in the evening, a branch crackled in the wood. Gérard listened, rested his elbow on his knee, pointed his gun in the direction of the bull. Then came a roar, and in a few minutes the lion was crouched beside the bull, licking the carcass and casting sidelong glances at Gérard. As he looked, an iron slug somehow struck him near the left eye. He reared, and a second slug brought him down. He died hard; it took two more shots to finish him. But he did die, and there was at last an end of the Gérard gave his second gun to an Arab, directing him to hold it in readiness, and reluct-Lord with the Large Head. antly advanced with them. They had not gone far when the lion sprang out upon them. ery body fired. All missed but Gérard; and Ev WHAT MR. TREVANION SAW. BY THE AUTHOR OF LILY." Mr. Trevanion, tell us a story." his shot was not so effective but that the lion "My dear Mrs. Grey! a story! I have seized a poor wretch and began to tear him. Quick as lightning Gérard pulled the trigger of his other barrel, but for the first time in ten years it missed fire. He held out his hand eagerly to his gun-bearer for his other weapon, but his heart sickened when the Arab replied, trembling like a leaf, "Not loaded." He had fired with the others. Most providentially, the three shots which the lion had already received told at last. He expired before he had quite killed the poor fellow who was in his clutches. We can not better conclude this rambling account of lion-slaying and man-eating than with the story of the "Lord with the Large Head." Gérard had again been summoned to free a district from leonine exactions. Having heard the story, he hastily laid his plan, and announced that he would set out that night alone. The Arabs endeavored to dissuade him; but he laughed at their remonstrances. Finding he was resolved, the sheik took him aside and said, "My child, if the lions come to-night, the lord with the large head will come first. Do not mind the others; they will rely on their father; do you look after the lord with the large head. If your hour is come, you will be eaten by the others, but you will be killed by him!" With this advice Gérard started, and the tribe accompanied him to the position he had resolved to occupy. On leaving him, the sheik whispered in his ear, "The robber has taken my best mare and ten oxen." "What robber?" asked Gérard. "The lord with the large head," answered the sheik in a very low voice, hastening away. The night was bright and still, and about midnight the lions came. Gérard shot the foremost, killing him with the third ball; but he turned out to be only a cub, and by morning news arrived that the lord with the large head had that very night stolen the finest ox in the douar. A year or more elapsed before he paid the debt of nature. One day Gérard was sitting in his tent, when an Arab entered, saying briefly, "I have found him; come." Gérard rose and went. His guide led him to a secluded spot in the wood, where lay the carcass of a freshlyslaughtered bull. Gérard made a screen of not told one since I was a very little boy, and was switched for my last." "Nonsense! I am speaking English. I don't wish a "fib;" but a tale-an adventure. Something æsthetic, or harrowing, or transcendental, or diplomatic, or-" "Oh, such big words! Spare me!" "Big words! Am I a primer that can not speak in more than dissyllables without giving notice? Be conformable, pray, and do as you are bid." "Bid!" yawned Trevanion. He was sitting on the upper-step of the flight which led into the house, his head leaning back upon the doorsill of the piazza, and his legs dangling down. It must be confessed that Mr. Trevanion's manners were-uncommon and various. His very best were very good indeed, but he would not run the risk of wearing them out by constant use; his second-best were tolerable; his worst I should not like to see. At present, he was indulging in his second-best; for if his attitude lacked respect, his tone was pleasant, and he was with those who excused his manner for the sake of his matter, and covered over his defects with the shady mantle of "oddity." "Bid!" he yawned again. "What kind of story did you suggest? Diplomatic? Shall I tell you how I shocked a whole company and flustered myself, by ignoring, through my semibarbarous American-Great-British habits, that I should offer my arm to the lady I took into my first French dinner, and conduct her back to the drawing-room, instead of tucking my feet under the mahogany for 'one glass more?" "No-I won't have that anecdote; for you have condensed the whole thing, point and all, in your one sentence." "Then you wish to be kept in suspense. Oh, let me off!" Mrs. Grey shook her head, and called out, "Mrs. Harrington, Mr. Trevanion is going to tell us a story. Come and listen." "I dont believe in stories worth hearing which you patronize or submit to me," answered Mrs. Harrington, joining them. "She sent me a book lately," turning to Mr. Trevanion, "writ |